Conquering the Mythos: Reincarnated with SSS Rank Skill Corruption

Shortly after his father left, doubt had returned to Devon's mind. Frantically rubbing his necklace, he thought 'What if I mess up somewhere? If he suspects us for even a second I'm done. He eats me and I die.'

Tugging on his necklace aggressively, he gave it a short look of disgust. 'What help are you even offering right now? Some goddess you are!'

"Hey, father's going to be washing for the trial. Unless we want him to eat you we should come up with a plan." Kisho whispered as he leaned into Devon's ear.

He kept a wide eye out for any of the servants, knowing that curious ears dotted the estate, eager to spill secrets for any benefit.

Devon nodded as his brother patted his back firmly while bellowing with laughter. A ploy, to make it seem as though they had just made a hilarious joke. Even through his nervousness Devon didn't miss a beat as he created a fervent laughter of his own.

A servant had walked in on them, planning to do some kitchen tasks. Although she hadn't heard the joke a smile formed on her face.

Devon and his brother went to the courtyard behind their house. It was a fairly long journey considering they were in a house.

Their mansion probably had at least 80 rooms, most of them fitted with either Kisho's or their father's trophies. The heads of at least 200 different beasts had found their final resting place within these walls.

A few of the rooms were also fitted to accommodate their mother's hobbies. A room for knitting, a room for her seasonal crafts. Devon didn't really care too much.

He lost any respect he had for her after she encouraged his father's neglect and abuse. He only cared about his father's trophies because of his direct involvement in attaining them.

Even if his father wouldn't admit it, Devon knew in his heart that he was responsible for some of their success. He wasn't fit to say how much, but it was definitely more than his father would lead others to believe. A big part of him wished that he had told his father the wrong info just once.

'Oops, a troll just ate your head! It's just too bad. I guess Kisho is forced to be the head of the house now!' Devon thought to himself with a smirk.

The smirk wasn't lost to Kisho, who immediately noticed it. Offering a smirk of his own as he opened the door to the courtyard, he said, "What? Are you suddenly excited to get eaten?"

Not wanting to give away the exact contents that led to his smirk, Devon meekly twirled strands of his hair as he said, "No, not exactly."

Walking out into the bright, luscious courtyard Kisho said, "Good! Because I don't plan on letting him eat you."

Devon smiled as he took in the scene he knew all too well. There was a grand tree to the right at the edge of the courtyard that had a beautiful outlook over the expansive field. It was impossible to miss, as its great height seemed to pierce the heavens themselves. He would spend hours up there, taking in the shrill children's laughter, the pleasant mountainous breeze, and the sight of some low-level beasts frolicking around. Deer, coyotes, and the like.

There was a hammock hanging off a set of another pair of trees, these ones much shorter, maybe just 20 feet in height. Still, they served as a nice spot to rest and read a nice book, or to watch some birds play with each other. He had his first kiss there too.

Then there was the little flower bed that lined itself across the wall of the house. There were all kinds of flowers in it, daffodils lilies roses, and the like.

Devon didn't know enough about flowers to know their individual names- he was more interested in beasts. If he wanted to know something about a plant, there was this village girl he'd talk to. Sophie. (His first kiss, if you must ask.)

Devon smiled as he reminisced over these past times of splendor when the world was much simpler. Sure, his dad's reigning wish for his firstborn to awaken some earth-shattering power was always there, but it never stopped Devon from living a relatively normal childhood. He didn't even know about the law that allowed his dad to eat him until he turned 12.

He brushed his hand across the hammock, knowing that this could be the last time he would see it. He held on to hope that the plan would work, but in case it didn't he wanted to be mentally prepared.

Touching his amulet as he sent a silent prayer, Devon thought, 'Please, just... let me survive. Nature, you've given me so much over the years. Still, I'm greedy. Let this moment right now be another cherished memory. Where 10 years from now, my brother and I can laugh at the times we had to make up my magic just so I could survive.'

"Hey, we can't waste time wiping dust! If the hammock's dirty Mom will just have to yell at you later. Right now, we need to-"

"plan." Devon finished for his brother as he turned away from the hammock.

'Yea yea. He's right though. The pleasant past is no help to me right now. If I wanted to survive, I'd have to look past it and only to the future. A future my own dad wants to take away from me.' Devon thought as he felt a wave of anger rising through his body.

Pushing that anger aside, Devon leaned against the tree as he looked at his brother. Always so regal, so perfect. Chuckling to himself, Devon asked, "Do you ever get sick of being perfect?"

Shrugging, Kisho said, "Can't say that I have, dear brother. Have you ever thought of getting stronger? Constantly saving you from father does get tiring you know."

Smelling the thick barky scent that foreshadowed the coming spring, Devon basked in the perfectness of nature as he thought of his own snide remark. "Can't say that I have, dear brother. Heh, uh, have you ever thought of getting smarter? Constantly saving you from your stupidity does get tiring, you know."

Opening his eyes just enough to see his brother roll his own eyes, Devon felt the crack of a mischievous smile form on his lips.

The smile quickly disappeared with an exaggerated yelp as his brother walked towards him with heavy steps, grabbing his ear. Yanking it with the force of an ox, Kisho pulled his idiot older brother from the tree and onto the ground. Pinning him, Kisho said, "Don't call me an idiot. Say you're sorry!"

Laughing through his struggle for breaths, Devon managed, "Sorry."

The moment Kisho got off him Devon added, "That you're stupid!" Before running from his brother.

He was tackled again almost immediately. This time though, Kisho wasn't looking to let his brother off easily. Instead of giving Devon a chance to repent, he instead applied more force to this pin. It was so effective that Devon couldn't even move. "Done goofing around now?"

Kisho watched as his brother squirmed under his weight. Kisho himself was unyielding. There was nothing in the world that could get him off his brother at that moment. He was teaching him a lesson, after all. Seeing his brother's face turn purple, Kisho felt that the lesson was served and thus promptly got off his brother.

After lifting himself off the ground, Kisho leaned down as he lent a hand to Devon. A hand that he feebly took as he whispered to himself, "Idiot!"

At that, both of them began laughing, even falling back down to the ground in their fit. This bout continued for a few seconds before they recollected themselves.

Devon muttered, "Who knew the hour before you die could be this fun!" Which caused him to laugh some more. This was laughter that Kisho did not join in.

Instead, he got up seriously this time and said, "We have to figure out a plan. Luckily for us, I think my new magic should be easy to pass off as yours."

Instantly forcing himself to become serious, Devon watched his brother intently as he began using his magic. He waved his hands around in a manner similar to the way Devon had seen some water mages move. Hands waving like the tides of an ocean, then coalescing into one swift movement of a powerful wave, destroying anything in its path.

Only his brother wasn't using water magic. Devon's eyes grew wide with wonder as he saw the true essence of this new magic. His brother was able to combine the elements of air and water, manipulating both with fine-tuned precision to force the wind itself to his rule. Even in a land where people could dominate dragons, the air itself was something few were even able to touch.

Yet here was his brother, manipulating it to his very will as though it was a toy.

Even through his wonder though, Devon saw the clear issue. "Do you have to do this much movement to perform your magic?"

With a simple solemn nod, Kisho affirmed this fear. "Yes. But, if I teach you the movements, and for some reason I had eaten a bad piece of pork and couldn't make it to the trial..."

He winked at Devon, knowing that his brother would understand his idea. Of course he did- even if he wondered whether or not Kisho could control the air like this while hiding in some nearby building.

Putting aside that worry, Devon simply knew that his brother would be able to perform this feat, due to the simple fact that that's just how Kisho is. Perfect.

Devon was anything but. It took him 10 minutes to even get the first movement down in a believable manner. At one point Kisho had even exclaimed in frustration, accusing his brother of "Failing on purpose, just to see what it's like to get eaten!"

Eventually, though, Devon thought he got it down well enough.

He hoped so, at least. His neighbors' faces all screamed as if they wanted my blood. Even though he grew up with most of them, even though he had even saved some of them. As he was ushered through the crowd by 2 town guards, Devon couldn't help but point out what he'd done for them.

There were a couple who were only alive due to Devon knowing the exact beast whose blood served as an antidote. Katie and David. While on a hunting trip, David had been hit with a poison dart by a goblin tribe. The Ackhdyian tribe, if he recalled correctly.

The poison had laid dormant until David returned home, and then it very quickly spread throughout his body shutting down all of its functions. The poison was different than most venoms, as it was also very contagious. When trying to care for her husband, the wife had fallen ill as well.

They were perfectly healthy today because of Devon. And yet they watched the trial with eagerness as if they couldn't wait to see if my father would eat me.

There was the group of kids that were attacked by a ghoul bear. Prior to that attack, the bear had been attacking other groups, killing 5 or more kids in each attack. No one in the entire village knew about that bear's habits except for him. Most of them didn't even know the bear existed. Devon was the one who figured out its habits and warned his brother. Of course, after his brother saved them he earned all the credit, even after he tried to say Devon was the reason they survived.

Devon watched as the kids and their parents waited with barely concealed excitement, wondering what kind of latent ability his father could inherit from him.

As he walked up the executioner's row, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming anger build inside him. An anger almost stronger than his defiance of death: his defiance of life. A small voice in the back of his mind began chirping 'Make them pay.' For the moment, Devon paid that voice no mind. Instead, he recited the movements he learned in his head one more time.

The guards finally let him go since he had finally reached their destination. A platform where Devon had watched many executions himself. Some of them deserved it, such as murderers. Others were simply rivals to a strong family.

Or they were like Devon. Discarded flesh that reeked of weakness. Despite anything else that they provided, that lack of strength meant they deserved any punishment.

His father looked at him as he adorned a fake smile. "My son... today is a fateful day. A day that will change the course of this family, this village, this... nation, forever." He let those words sit with the audience for a second before continuing.

"You have long since been said to have inherited great powers from the Goddess of Death Jideva herself. Although those powers have yet to bear their fruit, I am certain that such a prophecy simply cannot be a lie. If it was, that would be nothing more than the most blatant example of disrespect against the Goddess that could exist. And I know that no son of mine would disrespect her in such a manner. Even if you are unable to manifest the divine power bestowed upon you, I know that it exists within you all the same."

Placing a hand on his son's shoulder, Devon's dad continued, "So, as much as it pains me to do so, I have been forced to exercise my right to a trial of magic today. If you fail to showcase any magic, I will be forced to eat you, son. But worry not, as your sacrifice will reverberate amongst heaven itself, shaking the gods to such a level that they have no choice but to bless those you left behind. Now, son. I'll give you one last chance."

Devon met his father's false benevolence with disdain, wondering who had written such a speech for him. He knew his father was far too stupid to come up with it himself. This anger surprisingly cleared his vision, bringing the movements his brother had taught him to life.

Devon smiled as the air itself seemed to answer to his whim, basking in the surprised voices littering the crowd. His father seemed disturbed to see this development, which only bolstered Devon's resolve. The movements became more fluid by the second until even he believed he was casting magic.

The trial coming to an abrupt close, Devon basked in the crowd's excited chatter, thinking to himself 'Yea, to hell with you all. You're stuck with me a little longer.'

Then he felt a sudden stark rise in power. Turning with fear, already knowing what caused this change, he stared down his father's sudden scaley texture and reptilian eyes. Through great pain to himself, his father had activated the dragon's soul his son had tamed just enough to adopt draconic features.

The most prominent one was the jaw that ripped Devon's head from his neck in one bite. The jaw which tore flesh from bone as the power-hungry father sought that immensely powerful magic his firstborn had suddenly inherited.

A power that he needed.